The Fall
by Amiyrasmom
Summary: Has nothing to do with Riechenbach. Just thought I'd get that out there. This is a whole different kind of fall and a totally different person who takes it. Three women, three different reactions to a positive test. Let me know what you think and the rating is because someone has a foul mouth and there are mentions of rape and gore.
1. Positives and Prayers

**Disclaimer: Still not mine, apparently. So not fair. Oh, well, guess I'll have to learn to live with disappointment, won't I? I think I'll manage, at least until I can come up with a foolproof kidnapping plan. **

**A/N: No this story has nothing to with the Riechenbach Fall. Different person and different kind of fall all together. I still think that episode is a mass hallucination and doesn't really exist you know. Anyway, you'll understand better as you read. Hope you enjoy it. And yes it's Honey 'Verse.**

**Positives and Prayers**

She looked down at the little stick shaking in her hands and bit her bottom lip. Her eyes blurred with tears and she gave out a gasping half laugh. "Finally," she whispered. "Thank you Lord, finally."

They had been trying for this exact result for years. Decades it seemed at times. She was thoroughly sick of the doctors and the tests and the frustration. Now though, now, that would all stop. Now she was eagerly anticipating the next appointment. The joy bubbled up within her again and she laughed out loud, the peels bouncing off of the loo walls and making her laugh harder.

She couldn't wait to tell her husband. He would be so pleased. Maybe this news would stop his wandering. Maybe he would love her again.

This thought stopped the laughter and she sat shakily on the floor of the loo. "Please, God, let him love me again. Please," she prayed silently.

At heart her husband wasn't a bad man. She knew he wasn't. He'd been so sweet and protective and kind when they'd first met. He still could be when he chose. It wasn't as though he was cruel to her, though he could be very cruel to others; he was simply dismissive and inattentive of her. He had his life and friends and she had her own.

But this would change everything. It simply had too. She couldn't imagine doing this by herself. She couldn't fathom what her life would be like without him. She needed him and this news would only bind them closer. He wanted this too. He had said he did.

She picked herself up from the floor when the phone in the other room began ringing. She needed to call her secretary and inform her that she wouldn't be in today or tomorrow. She wiped her eyes and left the loo to answer the phone.

Her secretary, Bettina, was on the other end of the line when she picked it up so she dealt with one problem and then set the phone back in the cradle. Before she could change her mind, Francine Anderson snatched it back up and dialed her husband's mobile number.

"Humphrey darling," she kept her voice even with a tremendous effort when he answered. "We need to talk."

SH/JW SH/JW SH/JW

She stared down at the stick shaking in her hand. Her other hand crept up to cover her lips. This was…this was, she wasn't sure yet. It was good and not good and scary and exciting and horrible and wonderful and so very many things. She couldn't decide which emotion to go with yet so she just went numb.

"Oh, God," she gasped. They had been careful. She knew they'd been careful. Neither of them were ready for this. She set the hand holding the stick on the sink in front of her and the ring on her finger clinked against the porcelain.

Okay, she mused, so there had been a few times when they hadn't been as careful as they should have been. Still…"Oh, God," she gasped out again and stared down at the stick in wonder.

They could do this. She straightened her back in determination. They would do this. She wasn't alone anymore. She had him. He had her. They were together. They could handle this.

He'd be happy. He loved kids. They had even discussed it a few times and he'd said he wanted enough to field his own footie team. She'd laughed and told him to find another wife to help them then. He'd shrugged and shook his head and posed adoption to round out the three she was willing to have.

She smiled now, remembering that late night conversation. Her smile grew. So what if it was a bit earlier than they had planned? So what if the wedding wasn't for another six months? They were happy and she prayed with all her heart that they would stay happy. This news may be a bit of a shock but she found herself delighted by it.

He would be too. She knew with a sudden clarity that this would be the event that surpassed all other events in their lives. This would be the event that made them a true family. She couldn't wait to tell him.

Grin seemingly permanently affixed to her face, Sally Donovan fished out her mobile and pressed the speed dial button for her fiancé. "Ian," she said, fighting to keep herself from laughing in pure joy, when he'd answered. "We need to talk."

SH/JW SH/JW SH/JW

She glared down at the shaking stick that had just ruined her life and burst into tears. She threw the stick against the wall and slid to the floor of the loo, her body wracked with gut-wrenching sobs. Her life was over.

This was horrible. He'd never leave his wife. He'd never love her. He'd never want their child. What was she going to do now? She couldn't be a single mother. She couldn't move home. She had no home anymore. Her family had all died five years ago in a fire. She had no one. What was she going to do?

She turned quickly and expelled the contents of her churning stomach into the toilet by her side. She gasped heaving breaths when she finally finished. She mourned her mother for a moment. Her mother that would have held her and told her everything would be fine and she'd take care of everything. The mother that would have swept her hair back from her face, kissed her forehead, pressed a glass of water into her hand and forced her to bed. She wanted her own mother; she wasn't ready to be a mother herself.

She pulled herself to her feet and splashed water on her face. She'd have to tell him, of course. She didn't think he deserved to know but he'd guess if she continued to work with him and then he'd make her life even more of a Hell than he'd been since she'd refused to see him anymore.

She pulled in a breath and renewed tears streaked her cheeks. She was going to have to quit her job. He would never let her stay. What would he do? When she told him, what would he do? Would he try to make her get an abortion? She couldn't. She wouldn't. Abortion was anathema to her. She was Catholic. Besides it was illegal. Would he make her give the child up for adoption? She didn't know if she could. She wanted a family. She missed having a family. What was she going to do?

The chirping of the alarm on her phone reminded Penelope Chelton of the time. She dragged herself from the loo and picked up the beeping phone. Before she could stop herself she'd dialed his number and was waiting for him to pick up. She prayed he'd answer and that he'd at least tell her to piss off when she told him. She could handle that. "Anderson," she gasped out. "We need to talk."


	2. Reactions

**Disclaimer: I found an ancient spell book in the attic I don't have last night. Inside I found a ritual to bring me my heart's desire. I performed the ritual and a bottle of Dr. Pepper appeared before me. Guess I was more thirsty than lonely just then. I should try it again later. Hey, if nothing else at least I get free Dr. Pepper out of the deal. The characters are not mine and I get no money from writing these stories for your entertainment.**

**A/N: Everyone ready for the fireworks? I know I am. And to those of you who read "When the Spark Dulls" this story is one of the reasons there was such a quick conclusion to that one. This story refused to leave me alone. It kept niggling at my brain and pushed to be written. Hope you all like it and let me know.**

**Reactions**

"Francine?" Humphrey Anderson called into the parlour as he hung his coat up on the hook by the door. "Are you here?"

Francine heard him from her position in the kitchen speaking to the cook about the strictures the doctor had given her that day. She told the plump man a few more instructions and then turned and left the kitchen. "I was in the kitchen, Humphrey," she told him as she mounted the stairs to the main part of the house. "Are you finished with work for the day?"

He looked up from the mail he'd been perusing and shrugged. "I should be but with that Psychopath on the loose, who knows."

Francine frowned at him but accepted the kiss on the cheek he bestowed on her. "I will never understand just what you find objectionable about Mr. Holmes. I find him to be a bit abrasive but altogether a good man."

Anderson snorted quietly but made no other comment. Francine had met the Psychopath once and he'd been a bit drunk and mellow at the time. Anderson would swear that the pet doctor had blown the Psychopath within the last half hour when they'd met. That would account for the mild insults and all around near pleasantness. "You said we needed to talk," he changed the subject.

Francine shook her head in exasperation and motioned him to follow her to the dining room. "Dinner's ready, Humphrey and yes, I do need to talk to you. It's rather important and I think the news would be better on a full stomach."

Anderson swallowed. This conversation could not be good. Not if it required food. "Francine?" He asked quietly.

She turned her head and smiled brightly at him over her shoulder. "Don't worry, darling, it's a good thing. I promise."

She had served all of his favorite foods and beamed at him throughout dinner. "Francine, will you tell me now?" He asked as evenly as he could while they had dessert.

She positively glowed with her beaming smile at him. "Yes, Humphrey," she paused and took his hand in her own. "We're going to have a baby, Humphrey, darling."

Anderson squeezed his wife's hand and gave her a tight smile. "That's wonderful, dear. Excellent." The beeping of his phone interrupted them and he frowned, hiding his glee at the interruption. "I have to see what that is," he told her in a regretful tone.

She merely smiled at him. "Of course you do, darling. Go on. We'll celebrate when you come home."

He kissed her cheek again and fled the house to see what the Hell that bitch Chelton wanted.

SH/JW SH/JW SH/JW

Sally winced when she opened the door to the small house she and Ian had bought less than a month ago. Ian was obviously painting again. The music was obnoxious, loud and headache inducing. She rolled her eyes knowing he'd turn it off or down when she let him know that she was home.

She gave a brief thought to screaming for him but knew he wouldn't hear her over the music. "Idiot man," she muttered to herself and hung up her coat before going to search for him.

She found him in one of the bedrooms and not in the studio at the back of the house as she'd expected. "Ian!" She yelled and when he didn't respond she strode to the radio on the dresser and switched it off. "How can you not be deaf?"

Ian finished the tail on the horse he was painting on the wall and then grinned up at her. "Just lucky, I guess," he stood up and stretched his arms to the ceiling, paying no attention to the brown paint dripping onto his head from the brush in his hand. "You said we needed to talk." He brought his arms down and looked her in the eye. "Am I going to like this?"

"I really hope you do," she beamed at him. "We need to move up the wedding." She announced and stepped closer to him. She couldn't be in Ian's presence without wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible.

He set the brush in the water jar and pulled her into his arms. "I don't mind moving it up though our mothers might have tanties. Why though?"

She snuggled up to his chest and breathed in his scent, paint and coffee and soap. "I plan to be very fat in six months and I'd like to be able to fit into the dress I picked without it needing massive alterations." She leaned up and buried her nose in his neck.

Ian thought about her words for less than a minute and then his arms tightened around her. "You mean…?" His voice was full of awe. She nodded, found his hand and brought it to her still flat stomach. "Really?" A grin broke out across his face and he picked her up to twirl her around. "I love you!"

Sally laughed and put her arms around his neck. "I love you too, you daft idiot."

SH/JW SH/JW SH/JW

Anderson stomped into the pub that chit Chelton had insisted on them meeting at. Really, he could have just as easily gone to her flat. He would have preferred that actually. He was sure he could have talked her into a roll in the sack.

He scanned the crowded pub and finally spotted her sitting at a table in the back away from most of the crowd. He fought his way through the throng of people which did not help his already frayed temper. Francine was pregnant. That was a shock. He'd been hoping that his refusal to do any of the treatments the doctors suggested would prevent this. He didn't want a child. He didn't even like the little shits. They were loud and messy and a child with his wife would tie him to the house more often.

Francine would expect him to have a relationship with the brat. She'd expect him to coo over it and hold it and take it out with him. He couldn't do that. He wouldn't do that. The kid was her responsibility and he'd have as little to do with it as he could get away with.

He shook the thoughts of Francine and her kid from his mind and slid into the seat across from Penny Chelton. She looked like Hell, he noticed. Like she hadn't slept in weeks. Served her right, he thought viciously. She shouldn't have thrown him over on the word of that Psychopath, just like Sally. Stupid bitches the both of them.

"You said we needed to talk," he said for the second time that evening. "What do you want, Penny?" He tried to make his voice quiet and interested. Maybe he'd end the evening getting laid after all. She did look like she was missing him.

Penny shot him a furious look. "I'm pregnant, you bastard and it's your child." She took a shuddering breath. "I just thought you should know."

Anderson clenched his fists and glared at her. "What the Hell do you expect me to do about it?" He growled, suddenly as furious as she seemed to be. Why was the Universe conspiring against him tonight?

"Nothing," she leaned forward and hissed at him. "I don't want anything from you except for you to stay away from me. You've done your very best to make me uncomfortable at work and I want it to stop. I have enough going on without you fucking up my job." She stood up and stepped away. "Just stay away from us." She turned and fled the pub.

"Buggering damn," Anderson slammed his fist onto the table. This had to be one of the worst nights he'd ever had.


	3. Bea Visits the Yard

**Disclaimer: Tried my handy dandy spell again last night. Yeah, it didn't work again. This time I got a cake which is way weird because I hate cake. Think I'm gonna need a new plan. There's a spell to turn someone into a sex slave in here. Wonder if it'll work on a fictional character. For now I still don't own these characters and I'm poor as a church mouse.**

**A/N: Remember Molly and Mycroft's marriage? I do. Molly was pregnant at the end of 'Study in Pink'. Well, she's had the baby (that's another story entirely and has yet to leave my head and make its way onto the paper…er, screen). They named her Beatrice. Let me know what you think of her first visit to Scotland Yard.**

**Bea Visits the Yard**

"Good morning, Freak, Dr. John," Sgt. Sally Donovan greeted from her desk as they walked by. "Oooo," she squealed when she caught sight of the bundle in Sherlock's arms. "Is that Beatrice? May I hold her? Please?" She stood up and stood next to them.

Sherlock cuddled his niece close for a moment and regarded Sally suspiciously. Then he relaxed. "Don't forget to support her head, Donovan. And I'm only letting you hold her because you need the practice."

She cradled the infant to her chest and stared down at her in amazement. "She's so little," she mused. "And cuddly. Definitely got that from Dr. Hooper. Cuddly isn't a Holmes trait is it?"

"You'd be surprised, Sgt. Sally," John chuckled.

Sally smiled down into the blue eyes. "She's so pretty," she murmured. "Your brother is very lucky, Freak. Bet he's proud as Hell too."

"Watch your mouth, Donovan," Sherlock hissed. "Bea doesn't need to hear that kind of language. And yes, he's become insufferable. Carries her picture everywhere and insists on telling everyone ever single moment of her day."

Sally giggled when the baby grabbed at her finger. "Somebody's uncle is just a little overprotective. Oh yes, he is, isn't he, baby Bea?"

"Why do all the women do that voice once they've been exposed to an infant," Sherlock huffed. "It's ridiculous."

Sally shrugged and finally looked up at them. She'd been completely entranced by the baby in her arms. "Ian told you then?" She asked.

Sherlock smirked at her. "Did you really believe he could go more than five minutes after you'd left without shouting that news to anyone that would listen to him? He called us the moment you're car left the drive."

Sally giggled again. "He's a bit excited. Did he at least tell you that we changed the date of the wedding? Will your tux be finished in time?"

Sherlock frowned at her with a haughty look. "Of course it will be. I even have my best man's speech finished already."

Sally's smile fell from her face and she looked to John in a panic. "Tell me you wrote it?" She begged.

Sherlock huffed. John shook his head. "No, but he promised that he'd be nice," he told her. "He knows the dire consequences if he isn't nice in his speech."

Sally sighed with a nod. That was probably the best she could hope for. "So why are the two, well, three of you here?" She reluctantly released baby Bea back to her uncle when he put his arms out for her.

It was only as her focus shifted that she realized exactly how protective the two men were of the tiny baby. The Freak had kept his entire attention on her and Bea. It would have been insulting if she didn't understand that he would have been watching anyone who held her just as closely. Dr. John seemed to be more complacent but no less watchful. Except he'd been watching everyone else and keeping them from running to her or bumping her. Their protectiveness made her grin.

John covered a laugh with a cough. "Someone wanted to show off his niece since we get her for the day."

Sherlock sniffed and glared at his husband. "Dimmock needs my notes for the Kelingsworth case," he said. "We've come to bring them to him. The fact that Bea is with us is irrelevant."

Sally tactfully decided not to mention that the Kelingsworth case didn't go to trial for another two weeks. "Dimmock's at lunch, Freak. Should be back in about fifteen minutes if you want to wait. Or you could leave the notes in his office or I could give them to him."

Sherlock frowned. "We'll wait for him," he decided. "Where's Lestrade? I can ask him about a cold case while we wait."

Sally opened her mouth to respond and noticed their sudden tenseness. "What absolute moron would let you hold their child, Psychopath?" She heard Anderson's sneer from behind her. "Or is that a new experiment for you? Did you pick up a baby's body from the morgue to play with?"

"I'd let him hold my baby," PC Chelton spoke up before any of the others had a chance to blast him. "I would think even someone as brainless as you would realize that the baby is his niece. His brother's wife did have a baby about a month ago." She strode forward and stood close to Sherlock and Bea. "May I see her?" She whispered her gaze had become locked on the child.

Sherlock obligingly titled baby Bea towards her. "Penny!" Anderson yelled. "Do not touch that child! Who knows what they've contaminated it with!"

Bea, startled by the loud noise introduced into her normally quiet world, turned her head towards the noise and screamed at the top of her lungs. Sally burst into laughter. "Guess she didn't like that, Anderson."

Sherlock used the resulting commotion to observe PC Chelton. The young woman had huge, black bags under her eyes and a miserable gray cast to her face. Inside those watery blue eyes was misery and desperation. Something was wrong with her. He tilted his head in thought for a moment and then nudged John with his foot. John glanced at him and he nodded to Chelton slightly. John flicked his eyes to the woman and grimaced. He nodded and then moved to stand next to her.

"Penny, isn't it?" John asked her in his soothing doctor voice. The woman tore her gaze from Bea and nodded at him. "Why don't you come over here for a moment?" He suggested and pulled her by the elbow away from the laughing crowd. Sally caught his eye and gave him an approving nod even as she stood shoulder to shoulder with Sherlock and gave Bea her finger again.

"Did you need something Dr. John?" Penny asked the nice half of the Holmes/Watson duo. She rather liked the quiet doctor, but then most people did.

"You look like you've been dragged through a hedge and then pummeled," he told her bluntly. "What's wrong?" He put one hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "Do I need to schedule you an appointment?"

Penny looked up into soft, understanding hazel eyes and broke down. She leaned her head on John's shoulder and just cried. John wrapped his arms around her and soothed her as best he could. "It's all right," he whispered. "We'll fix the problem. It's okay, Penny."

"It's not," she sobbed. She told him everything then. When she finally stopped he only patted her back and led her towards the break room.

John pressed a glass of water into her hand and took her wrist between his fingers. "Your family is all gone, right?" He asked. She nodded. "You don't have anyone that can help you out?" She shook her head. "Well, first off you have to get some more sleep. I know that it doesn't seem like it right now but things will work out. They nearly always do."

"I'm so scared," she admitted in a trembling voice. "How am I going to do this alone?"

John gave her a small smile. "I doubt you'll be alone, Penny. You'll see. Now, second thing. Have you seen a doctor yet?"

"No," she took a drink of the water. "I only took the test yesterday morning. I haven't even…no."

"Lucky for you I have an opening at the surgery tomorrow. Come by about eleven and we'll confirm the home test. Sgt. Sally is supposed to come by at ten thirty so you can catch a ride with her if you like," he paused. "Oh my, I guess I should tell her shouldn't I? Ian made the appointment for her this morning."

Penny snickered faintly. "Thank you."

John shrugged. "No problem. Let's go rescue the Yard from Sherlock, shall we?"


	4. Beginning to Fall

**Disclaimer: I tried the sex slave spell. Doesn't work on fictional characters though my cat is giving me some rather disturbing looks. I'm a bit worried about that. Guess it's back to the drawing board. The characters are still not mine.**

**A/N: If you're a fan of Anderson do not read this chapter. In fact don't read any more of this story if you're an Anderson fan. **

**Beginning to Fall**

Humphrey Anderson had endured an awful lot in his life. An abusive father. An alcoholic mother. A lifetime of everyone around him looking down on him. The Psychopath contaminating his crime scenes. The woman in his life disobeying him constantly. But the past three months made the rest of his life seem roses and rainbows.

Ever since that stupid bint Penelope had gossiped to Sally about her baby everyone had been eyeing him with disfavor. Half of his techs refused to work with him and the ones that would said the bare minimum to him. He hadn't been out to the pub for drinks with the boys in months. They wouldn't invite him and when he just showed up at _The White Stag_ they all moved so that he couldn't sit with them.

And Francine was growing more and more weepy with every passing day. The kid was messing with her hormones and her doctors told her that it was normal. Anderson didn't believe that for a moment. Francine was clingy and wanted him home every night. She hadn't taken a trip on business or pleasure since she'd found out she was pregnant. God he hated being in that house with her.

He knew that stupid bitch Donovan and the Psychopath were behind all of this. The day after Chelton had announced her pregnancy to him the Psychopath and his pet had visited the Yard with their demon spawned niece. The day after that everyone knew that Chelton was pregnant with his kid. Donovan was pregnant too but no one even blinked at that.

Hell, more than half the Yard had attended her wedding to that stupid painter last weekend. All he'd heard about all week when he'd eavesdropped had been gushing about how beautiful the bride was and how transparent the painter's adoration had been. He'd also heard that the Psychopath had been Best Man and his speech had made Donovan cry. That had cheered him for a minute until he heard they'd been tears of happiness and relief. Apparently the Psychopath had been touching and nice.

His life was becoming beyond intolerable. One little mistake with a PC that no one had even noticed before and he was suddenly persona non grata at the Yard. No one talked to him beyond business. He got all the crap cases and if Chelton was on a scene he was told he wasn't needed. Hell, if the Psychopath was there he was told to leave in no uncertain terms. It wasn't fair.

Everything was that bint Chelton's fault! He'd been fine until she had to go and open her big mouth. No one needed to know but she'd gone and blabbed about her pregnancy to all and sundry.

He glared moodily at his computer screen. He had to fix this. He would fix this. Chelton wouldn't get away with ruining his life this way.

He pushed away from the desk and stalked to his office door. He'd go see her and set her straight. She needed to confess that the kid wasn't his. Who knows who the kid's real father was. It could have been anyone. It wasn't like she'd been faithful to him. No one ever was.

He tossed open the door and stalked down the hall to leave for the evening. She wouldn't get away with ruining his reputation and his life this way. No one messed with Humphrey Anderson and got away with it.

SH/JW SH/JW SH/JW

John swam up from the depths of sleep and flung an arm out around his husband to stop the beeping on the nightstand. A crash and a groan had Sherlock sitting up and blinking at the darkness. "It wasn't the alarm, John," he said huskily.

"Thanks," John grumbled. "I think I've deduced that one for myself this time." He sat up and swung his legs off of the bed. "It's my phone."

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the obvious statement and flopped back on the bed. "Well, you'd better answer it then. Bea might have colic again and Molly's going insane trying to get her to sleep while Mycroft calls on every child specialist he knows…again."

John snorted. "God, I hope not. He should know better than that by now. He'll call me first." He rooted around on the floor and finally found his phone. He checked the caller ID and frowned. "It's Penny."

Sehrlock sat back up in alarm. "Penny Chelton? She never calls this late! Why is she calling now? John, answer it. Hurry up!"

"Shut up, Sherlock," John hissed as he brought the phone to his ear. "What's wrong, Penny?" He paused. "Penny? Are you there?" He could hear her breathing on the other end but it sounded off. Weaker than it should have been. "Penny?"

"H-he's kill…killed her, Dr. John," Penny's weak voice finally sounded it was followed by a wet cough. "He's killed my…baby girl." John heard a gasping breath that sounded bubbly somehow. "Ander…son. He's…he's…kill…" Her voice trailed off and John quickly snatched up his trouser and shirt.

"Penny!" John shouted. "Don't go to sleep! Penny! Stay with me!" He flung trousers to the already moving Sherlock and hunted up his shoes as Sherlock fled to the bathroom and came back with John's medical bag. "Penny tell me where you're hurt. Penny! Sherlock, she's not responding anymore. Call an ambulance and the police and a taxi. I'll keep trying."

Sherlock nodded even as his fingers were already flying over his phone. He gave out Penny's address and what little he knew to the dispatcher and requested they call Lestrade after they sent out the ambulance. He called Sally as they raced out the door. Sally would be a good choice to be there for the other woman. They had become friends and Penny would need a friend if what John was cursing about were true.

"This had better be good, Freak, I'm on my honeymoon," Sally's voice growled at him when she picked up.

"Fuck," Sherlock hissed in an uncharacteristic curse. "I'd forgotten."

"You forgot?" Sally's voice was more alert and clear. "What's going on? What's wrong? You never forget anything and you never curse. SHERLOCK! What's happened?"

"Sals," Ian's voice penetrated her frantic questioning. "Sals, calm down. Give me the phone. That's a girl." There was a short pause and then Ian's voice was clearer. "Shock? What's wrong? Are you injured? No, is John injured. You wouldn't be calling us if you were injured."

"Kill! Shut up and just listen to me," Sherlock barked. "Penny called John. She said the baby's dead. You have to get Sally over there now. Can you do that?"

"Penny?" Ian questioned faintly. "Baby?" Sherlock heard him draw in a deep breath. "Yeah, yeah, just…we'll be there in ten." Ian hung up and Sherlock dialed Lestrade again even though he hoped they weren't walking into a murder scene. John's increasingly frantic calls for Penny to answer him in the silence of the cab gave faintness to that hope with each subsequent breath.


	5. Hospitals and More Prayers

**Disclaimer: I've left the spells behind. They weren't working properly anyway. The kidnapping idea is top of the board at the moment though I'm not quite sure how to kidnap someone that doesn't actually exist…I'll figure it out. For now though they still aren't mine.**

**A/N: I was going to write a graphic description of what happened to Penny but changed my mind. I don't like gratuitous gore. It's enough to let you imagine most of her injuries yourself. That way I can be as clean as I like and you can be as gory as you like. **

**Hospitals and more Prayers**

"Dr. Hooper?" Sally asked when the form sat down in one of the hospital chairs beside her. "What are you doing here?"

"Take Bea would you, Sgt.?" She handed the four month old baby to Sally. "Sherlock asked My and I to come and keep an eye on you. Of course, My's in India until Saturday but you still get me and my bodyguards."

Sally cradled the sleeping infant to her chest. "Keep an eye on me?" She questioned suspiciously.

"Sherlock's become a bit protective since that business with Moriarty," Molly told her quietly. "He doesn't want anything to happen to his friends, you see."

Sally stroked on finger down Bea's soft cheek. "We're not friends," she informed the younger woman.

Molly giggled. "No, no you aren't. There's far too much distasteful history between the two of you to be real, true friends but Ian is his friend. And if you were hurt then Ian would be devastated and that would distress Sherlock so…here we are."

"Oh," Sally's head snapped up as the door to the waiting room opened. It wasn't John though. It was Ian. He nodded at Molly and took the seat on the other side of Sally. "Hey, any information?"

"No," Ian sighed. "Nothing. They won't tell me anything because I'm not family and John won't leave her side."

"Bastards," Sally muttered and then bit her lip at Molly's glare. "Sorry Dr. Hooper."

Molly patted her arm. "It's all right. Bea's asleep anyway." Bea made a snuffling noise and stretched out her arms before settling down again to sleep. Molly leaned over Sally and ran a finger along the baby's cheek. "Do they know who the monster that did this to her is?" She asked quietly.

Sally shook her head. "No, she was unconscious when we got there. Freak didn't say a single word. I know he knows who it was but he wouldn't tell me."

Ian shifted in his chair and put an arm over Sally's shoulders. "He probably didn't want anyone else hunting up the bast…jerk."

Sally leaned her head tiredly on his shoulder. "You think it was that Moriarty fellow then? Why would he target Penny? She's not even close to the Freak. Dr. John, maybe, but not the Freak."

Ian shook his head. "No, Moriarty would have no interest in her. He's other more juicy targets to consider. I'm not going to speculate with you Sals. We'll find out when we find out and not before."

Sally opened her mouth to argue but the door swept open again to reveal the short, tired form of John Watson. "I know you all have questions," he started before they could even begin to speak. "Penny will live. She's going to have some nasty scars on her back and her face will need some reconstructing. She…um, she was raped, brutally." Dr. John swallowed and blinked. "She hasn't lost the baby yet but it's in distress. We're not sure if she'll survive. If she pulls through the night then she's got a good chance." He nearly collapsed into a chair after his little speech and stared blankly at them.

"Can we see her?" Sally asked timidly.

John shook his head. "Not yet. They…we had to do some emergency surgery. She's in recovery at the moment but they'll let a few of you in when she's moved to a room."

Molly took out her phone and started tapping at it. "She'll have a private room," she announced. "Penny doesn't need to be around very many people right now and who knows what kind of roommate she'd get otherwise."

"Thanks Moll," John gave her a sad smile and a nod. "I'm sure she'll appreciate the relative quiet."

Sally snuggled her head deeper into the hollow of her new husband's shoulder drawing comfort from his strength and calmness. "Now what do we do?" She asked no one in particular and shifted baby Bea into a more comfortable position.

"Now we wait," John informed them grimly. "We wait and we pray for Penny to wake up, for Sherlock and Greg to get here and for justice."

SH/JW SH/JW SH/JW

If Francine was concerned at her husband's countenance when he came home that night, she kept it to herself. Humphrey had been in a rather awful mood of late and she didn't want to set him off. His skin was paler than she'd ever seen it and his eyes were fever bright. His hands were shaking a bit and his kiss was a bit more off target than normal. He'd aimed for her cheek and hit her eye instead. She looked him over carefully as she followed him up to bed and decided that if he'd caught a cold it was just as well that she'd been sleeping in the extra room the past few months.

Still, he was her husband and she did love him. Her concern for his health overrode her desire for a quiet evening at the door to her bedroom. "Humphrey?" She started hesitantly.

He turned his head to regard her with those overly bright, glassy eyes. "Did you need something, Francine?" He asked in a solicitous tone.

She suddenly felt very trapped. Those eyes bored into her. Her heart fluttered in her chest. Humphrey had never scared her before. He certainly did now. Those glassy dark eyes made her feel like prey. "Is…" she cleared her throat. "Is everything all right, dear?"

His smile was shark like and brittle in its utter viciousness. Then it was gone and his smile was bland. "Everything is perfect, dearest. Now you should get some sleep. Jr. won't like it if his Mummy is overtired."

Nodding faintly she disappeared into the bedroom that had become hers. Once the door was safely closed behind her she collapsed onto the bed and drew her knees to her chest. She drew in a shaky breath. There was something very wrong with her husband and she had no clue what to do about it.


	6. The Flat

**Disclaimer: Okay, so the spell book called to me. Really it was quite convincing. Inside there is a spell to bring one character from a book to life. So now, I have to get ahold of the original scripts for BBC's Sherlock. I want the modern Lestrade. He's much more fun and I wouldn't have to explain electricity. Better do it from The Hounds of Baskerville though otherwise it won't work because he's too noble to cheat on his wife. Wish me luck. For now, the characters remain not mine.**

**A/N: No, John hasn't told anyone what Penny said about Anderson. He believes her but he also knows that his husband can find proof faster without any input from him on this issue. If he told Sherlock what Penny said then Sherlock would instinctively be trying to find evidence that proved Anderson's guilt. So John is keeping mum and praying that Sherlock finds the evidence quickly so that he doesn't ever have to see Anderson's face again. On with the story.**

** Also, skip the end of this chapter if you have a really good imagination and are easily squicked. I don't actually say anything gross but it's implied…heavily. Seriously, don't read it if you think it'll make you sick.**

**The Flat**

Sherlock stood in the middle of PC Penelope Chelton's parlour, ignoring the smell of blood and the murmur of the coppers around him. He tamped down his rage to get on with the job. He had never liked working rape cases or cases with child abuse. He might claim to be a sociopath but there was something inherently wrong with people who would do those things.

His hands clenched into fists inside the pockets of his coat. He really didn't like working cases involving the rape and beating of someone he knew. The attempted murder of a child that had yet to even draw breath. Children were precious. To be cherished and protected. Not murdered.

And John liked Penny. John was distressed and so was Sgt. Donovan which meant that Kill was distressed. Lestrade was uncomfortable which meant that he'd speak to Joanne about the evening's events and then she'd be upset. He'd already called Molly to join the others at the hospital and she'd been upset. She would tell Mycroft and then he'd get angry and distressed because she was. Really, everyone who meant anything to him, with the exception of Mrs. Hudson, was unhappy over this. All the distress and upset was throwing him off.

"Sherlock," Lestrade's tight voice had him cracking open his eyes. "Sher, I need anything you've got." Anger. Sorrow. They were heavy in Lestrade's voice. Joanne would have her hands full comforting him tonight.

"Shh!" Sherlock hissed at him. "Everyone be quiet. I need to think and you're all distracting me." He could hear the uncomfortable mutters of the coppers around him. "If you want to catch the person that did this then give me a bit of time and some silence!"

Sherlock had never heard a crime scene fall so silent so fast. It was very nearly eerie. He smirked and closed his eyes again. There was still something off. Something he was missing. "Anderson!" He barked. "Stop looking at me! Turn around; you're putting me off."

"He's not here," one of the PC's said loudly.

"What?" Sherlock spun on the PC. "Avery, isn't it?" He asked and didn't at the same time. "How can he not be here? I smell him. Don't you?" He strode towards her and she swallowed with a small squeak.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade grabbed his elbow and spun the younger man to face him. "Stop scaring my PCs. What do you mean you can _smell _him? Don't tell me this is a new insult for you. Going to have at him because of his hygiene now?"

Sherlock scowled. "What? No!" Then he tilted his head in consideration. "It could use a bit of work though." Lestrade's growl had him refocusing. "But no. Close your eyes, Lestrade," he ordered. "Breathe deep. Ignore the smell of blood. Can't you smell the cheap, nasty cologne that Anderson uses?"

Some of the PCs had done as he'd ordered and suddenly PC Avery gasped. "I smell it too." She kept her eyes closed and stepped forward hesitantly. Sherlock stared at her and then followed her when she took a few more steps. She was heading towards the bedroom. Sherlock had been avoiding that room. He was far more comfortable in the parlour where Penny had dragged herself to phone John than the bedroom where the assault had taken place. "Here," Avery whispered and held her hands out in front of her to avoid any obstacles.

A few of the other constables moved things out of her way, amazed at her olfactory senses. She pressed on into the bedroom with her eyes closed until she bumped into the bed. Sherlock caught her before she could fall and she pointed in horror to a single dark hair on the rumpled bedclothes.

"Bag it," Lestrade ordered gruffly. "I know Chelton has blond hair. Let's not jump to conclusions though. She could have a boyfriend." He didn't sound as though he believed it though.

"She doesn't," Avery told them in a quavering voice. "And her family's all dead. Car accident five years ago. 'S why she was so distraught when she found out she was pregnant. She didn't have anyone. All she has is us, sir."

"Still," Lestrade insisted. "We'll do the tests. We have to stay impartial. We can't condemn Anderson on a hair and a smell. Well, we can, but not until we have the tests."

Sherlock turned his head to sneer at him and stopped. His eyes had caught on a glint of glass in the corner. Suddenly flashes of PC Chelton, Penny appeared in his head.

Her engaging smile and bright laugh when John had forced him to take her to dinner with them last month. Her bright happy bounce last week as she showed off the sonogram picture of her baby. Her giggles when she told all and sundry about the baby's heartbeat the first time she'd heard it. Penny and Donovan, heads bent close together, in the break room, at a crime scene sharing pregnancy stories and first milestones. Kill moaning about two sets of Lamaze classes because there was no way Donovan was letting Penny do it by herself. Penny promising to let him feel the baby kick.

He stumbled backwards in revulsion and Avery steadied him with a hand on his elbow. "Greg," he croaked out and searched desperately around the room. "Greg," he tried again.

Lestrade turned at the sound of his first name coming in that tone from Sherlock. "Wha-?"

"I'm going to be ill," Sherlock cut across him. Indeed his skin had taken on a green cast though his eyes never wavered from the corner of the room.

"Avery!" He barked out in alarm but the woman was already propelling Sherlock from the room. Lestrade walked over to the corner to see what could have possibly caused that reaction in the stoic so called sociopath. He paled. "Somebody…" He swallowed back the bile rising in his own throat. "Bag that," he pointed and then turned his back. He should check on Sherlock.

Several of the constables took one glance and fled the room, the flat and the building itself to empty their stomachs anywhere they could. They all considered themselves hardened officers, used to death and tortured bodies but to have that happen to one of their own pushed them past their limits.

Lestrade sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and grabbed an evidence bag himself. Really what good did being in charge do when he had to do the distasteful things himself? Grimacing he picked up the jagged, blood encrusted broken bottle and tossed it in the evidence bag as quickly as he could. He quickly wrapped the bag in opaque plastic and headed into the hallway.

Sherlock and Avery were just emerging from the bathroom but one look at the bundle in Lestrade's arms had Sherlock turning back and throwing up again. Avery gave him a quizzical look but he shook his head. "When he's finished this time, take him to the hospital. John'll be able to help him."

"Yes sir," Avery nodded and turned to go back to Sherlock's side.

"Text me with her condition, Avery, please."

"Yes sir."


	7. Hospital Again

**Disclaimer: So BBC is giving me the runaround on the script issue. Wankers. I wonder if I can bring one of my Lestrades to life…er, right. No. Just no. One is very much in love with his wife, Joanne, another is seriously in love with Mycroft and the others are all two dimensional because they're barely mentioned. Not a good idea for me to bring any of them to life. Guess I'll just have to keep trying with BBC. Still not mine though…not yet anyway.**

**A/N: Sometimes having a very vivid imagination is more a curse than a blessing. I squicked myself with that last chapter. I apologize to everyone else that got grossed out. Hopefully that's the last of the gore. Really. I don't think I can handle any more of that. Well, maybe if it was Anderson. Yeah. That'd be good. Thanks for sticking with the story even though it grossed you out.**

**Hospital Again**

Avery supported the taller Sherlock with an arm around his waist down the halls of the hospital and to the waiting room near the critical ward. That was not good news. It meant that Penny was still in danger of dying. She'd hoped that the other woman would pull through easily but apparently that wasn't going to happen.

"John," Sherlock muttered into her hair in a weak voice. "Where's John? I need to see him."

"Just hang on a bit longer," Avery murmured to him soothingly. "We're almost there, Mr. Holmes. Just a few more steps."

His stumbling weight was suddenly lifted from her shoulders and she stumbled forward in surprise only to be caught up in strong arms before she could fall. All she saw was black for a moment as she caught her breath and then she looked up into a freckled boyish face topped with carrot red hair. "Um hi," she stuttered.

The man in the black suit that was still holding her tightly grinned briefly and then sobered. "What's wrong with Mr. Sherlock?"

Avery pulled herself slowly away from the man and turned to look for her charge. "He got ill at the scene. The DI told me to bring him here," she said distractedly. Sherlock was nowhere in sight. "Where is he?" She asked in a panic. "Lestrade will kill me if I lose him!"

"Mr. Sherlock never becomes ill, constable," the man refuted. "What happened?"

Avery frowned fiercely at him. He'd seemed so nice and he was kind of cute, it was such a shame he was a jerk that wouldn't take her at her word. "Something shook him at the scene. Now where did he go? I have to find Dr. John and deliver Mr. Holmes to him."

He put a soothing hand on her shoulder and smiled. "He's fine. My partner took him into the waiting room, I promise. Would you like to check for yourself?"

Avery's shoulders slumped in relief. "Oh," she sighed. "Thank you. PC Barbara Avery," she thrust her hand out to him.

"Agent Ben Carson," he took her hand in his and shook it. "Nice to meet you, PC Avery. Would you like to go in now?"

"Yes," but she made no move to enter the room. "Do you know how Penny's doing, Agent Carson?" She asked instead.

He shook his head with a look of regret. "But Dr. John just came back from surgery so he should have an up to date status report."

Avery turned to the door and then looked over her shoulder with a small smile. "Thanks for not letting me hit the floor, Agent Carson."

"Not a problem, PC Avery," Carson murmured as she disappeared into the room and his partner came out.

SH/JW SH/JW SH/JW

"What happened?" Dr. John's voice whipped at Avery as soon as the other agent left the room. There was a scrum of people around the chair where Dr. John had the world's only consulting detective wrapped around him like a limpet.

Avery sighed. "I don't know, exactly," she explained under the hostile sets of eyes trained on her. "He was fine one minute and then he croaked out the DI's first name and said he was going to be ill. I rushed him to the bathroom. When we came out the DI was there and then Mr. Holmes turned back around and was sick again. The DI told me to bring him here when he finished."

John nodded and continued to stroke Sherlock's back. "Where were you when he first became ill?"

"The bedroom," Avery answered and then paled and looked a bit green herself. "Oh! It's my fault." She staggered to the wall and collapsed into a chair. "I took him in there. I followed the smell, like he said and I took him in there and he got sick and it's all my fault!"

"Pull it together, Avery!" Sally snapped. "Now is not the time to assume blame. Just walk us through it." Even though her words were harsh she wrapped an arm around the trembling woman. "Start from the beginning."

So Avery took a deep breath and recited verbatim the events of the evening. Stopping after they'd seen the DI in the hallway.

"Was Greg carrying anything when you saw him in the hall?" John asked and Sherlock whimpered in his arms.

"No, John," Sherlock said quietly. "Don't tell them. Don't ever tell them what it was. I'm deleting that information and you are not to tell anyone."

John held him tighter to his chest. "All right, love. It's all right. I won't. I wasn't going to anyway. Shh, it's all right now."

Sally opened her mouth to protest but Ian touched her arm gently. "Sals, if this information is making _Shock_, of all people, sick do you really want to know?"

"I don't," Molly said swiftly. "Ever and if anyone tries to tell me I'll set My on them."

"Me either," Avery nodded. "I've never seen him like that."

Sally finally shook her head reluctantly. "So did you get any information on her attacker before you had to leave?"

Avery bit her bottom lip and looked around the room uncertainly. "I…I really can't discuss an ongoing case, Sgt. You know that, ma'am."

Sally scowled at her. "I'm your superior officer, Avery."

"Yes ma'am," Avery nodded. "But you aren't working this case and…well, I really can't discuss this."

"Just tell her, Avery," Sherlock's hoarse voice cut in before Sally could start ranting at her. "She's going to find out as soon as Lestrade shows up anyway. It might be better for her to get the rant that'll come off her chest now. Lestrade's got more than enough to deal with at the moment."

"Yes sir," Avery seemed to gather herself and shifted just a bit away from Sally. "It was Anderson. The DI says we have to wait for the tests to come back but I know it was him. It had to be. I smelled that nasty cologne he wears."

Sally's eyes widened and one hand sought out Ian's the other covered her lips. "What?" She whispered. "Why would he…? How…? I don't understand."

"Neither do I," Avery said. "It makes no sense. They broke up months ago and he's been a jerk but otherwise fine." She shook herself and looked over at Dr. John. "How is Penny?"

"She'll live," John said shortly. "Anderson did a number on her but she'll pull through. The baby is a different story though. If she survives the night she has a better chance of making it."

"You knew?" Sally hissed at him.

John nodded. "Penny named him when she called me. I didn't tell because I had no evidence beyond her word and while that's good enough for me the police would need more."

"We have it," Sherlock told them and sat up straight. "He left a hair on the bed. We'll nail him."

"Good," Sally piped up viciously. "He better hope Lestrade finds him before I do."

"I think he's hoping no one will find him," Sherlock smirked. "But I'm sure Lestrade sent some constables over to bring him in for questioning if he didn't go himself."

"He went himself," Molly assured them. "He wouldn't want any of the others to get in trouble for brutality. He knows he can restrain himself for long enough to get the bastard into interrogation."

The room fell into silence that was broken a few minutes later when Agent Carson poked his head in. "PC Chelton has been moved to her room if you'd like to visit," he announced. "She's still asleep but they said you can go in if you want."

Sherlock stood up and walked over to Molly. "Let me take Bea and you, Avery and Donovan go see Penny. She'll be more comfortable with the three of you than with us."

"Thanks Sher," Molly handed Bea to her uncle took Sally's elbow in one hand and Avery's in the other and tugged the two women from the room.


	8. Silly Fears?

**Disclaimer: Still trying to get my hands on that script but if that fails I have a backup plan. *insert evil cackle* Oh yes I do. No! I won't share what it is. If I did that you might use it and then you'll have Lestrade and I won't. That would be unforgiveable. Truly. I mean I love you guys and everything. You leave such lovely reviews but I don't even love my daughter enough to let her have Lestrade instead of me. Cheer up though, I don't have him yet or any of the others so you still have a chance.**

**Silly Fears?**

Greg thought about running by his own house before going on to Anderson's. He could really use a hug from his wife about now. He wouldn't though. He needed to bring Anderson in. His own feelings of revulsion and sorrow had to be placed in the back of his mind for now. Later he would bury himself in Joanne's welcoming, warm arms and attempt to forget the events of this horrible night.

As though summoned by his need for her his phone rang with the insane ring tone Sherlock had programmed into it. Really he knew his wife was perfect he didn't need to be reminded every time she called his mobile. Still it shot a warm feeling through him tonight.

"Hey Jo," he answer gruffly.

"Greg?" Jo's voice was concerned. "What's happened? I just received a text from Sherlock's phone to call you."

He noticed that she didn't say it was from Sherlock which meant that he either hadn't signed it or someone else had used his mobile to send it. John then. "I…" he paused. "You know I can't give you any details."

"I know," she told him soothingly. "Just tell me what you can." Her voice was warmer and comforting. Did he really sound that off to her? After nearly thirty years of marriage she knew him better than anyone but then she'd known him since the day they met.

"All right," he cleared his throat. "You remember that PC? Penelope Chelton?"

"Mmm," Joanne hummed. "The one Anderson got pregnant?"

"That's the one." He swallowed. "She was attacked in her home this evening." Joanne gasped. "She called John and Sherlock called me. They've taken her to the hospital if you want to head over there. John, Sherlock, Donovan, her husband and several others are there already. That's really all I can tell you," he swallowed again. "This…well, it's not good, Jo."

"I'll head over there as soon as I tell Ben where I'm going," she assured him. "You won't be home tonight will you? You already have a suspect."

Sometimes her deductive powers amazed him. "When did Sherlock Holmes start possessing my wife?" He teased though his heart wasn't really in it.

"Mmph," Joanne huffed. "I'm far from stupid dear. You're not at the hospital because Sherlock would have just told _you_ to call _me._ I can't hear anything in the background which means you're in the car so you're on your way to pick up the suspect. Do be careful dearest."

"I will be," he pulled the car to a stop in front of Anderson's town house. He saw the panda that held the two constables he'd ordered to meet him here and sighed. "No I don't think I'll be home tonight. Jo," he paused. "Take Ben with you. He can skip school tomorrow."

"That bad?" Was her only question.

Greg swallowed again. "I'm fairly sure she lost the baby and I know how you are about things like that. Take our son so that you can be sure he's there and he's fine. Tell him I love him, yeah?"

He heard Joanne draw in a deep breath. "Yes, okay," she told him shakily. "I'll tell him. Call…call me when you can?"

"Of course. Jo, I love you."

Joanne gave a half a laugh. "Love you too, dear."

Greg rang off and stared at the picture of his wife on his phone for a moment. This was going to be a nightmare. Steeling his resolve against the apprehension he was feeling, he exited the car and stood on the kerb to wait for the constables to stand beside him. "Look, this could get ugly. Forget that he's a colleague. Forget that you may not like him. We're taking him in for questioning on rape and attempted murder. That's it. He's just like any other suspect. Don't let him try to talk his way out of it because he's one of us."

"Yes sir," they answered together.

"He's going to be angry," one of the muttered.

"Then we'll know that he did it won't we?" Greg returned. "If he were innocent then he'd know that we were only doing our jobs and were crossing him off the list." He strode up to the door and rang the bell.

SH/JW SH/JW SH/JW

Francine was thirsty. She really wanted a glass of apple juice. Her mouth was dry and the only thing that would quench this unreasoning thirst was the apple juice in the kitchen.

She eyed the door apprehensively. She couldn't explain, even to herself, why she was scared. She was though. Very scared. Of Humphrey of all the people and things to be scared of. She didn't know why. She really didn't want to go out there right now. Humphrey would hear her. He would come out of his room to see what the matter was. She didn't want to see him. There was something off about him tonight. Something very wrong.

Jr. really wanted that juice though. She could risk it, she decided. Humphrey was asleep. His phone had rung for a while about an hour ago but he'd never picked it up. She forced herself to walk to the door and open it. It was her house; if she wanted juice at two a.m. then she could have apple juice at two a.m.

Still she was as silent as she could be as she crept down the stairs. Reaching the relative safety of the kitchen she allowed herself a sigh of relief and poured her juice. She drank it down and smiled to herself. Jr. was happy now and her mouth wasn't dry anymore. Now she could sleep.

She giggled to herself at her own silly fears. Really Humphrey would never hurt her. He was a good man. Sure he could be very surly and cold and he often found someone else to take care of his sexual needs but still all in all a good man and she felt bad that she had let herself be afraid of him.

She had just placed her hand on the bannister to climb to the stairs back to her room when the doorbell rang. She screamed in fright and one hand leapt to her throat. "Good Lord," she whispered. She trekked away from the stairs towards the front door. Who on Earth would be visiting at two thirty in the morning?


	9. Apprehension

**Disclaimer: So the secret plans are coming along nicely. Yes, I am happily torturing you with not telling. Still trying to get the scripts though they could come in handy. For the moment they still aren't mine.**

**A/N: So this story is winding down. All they have left to do is catch Anderson, wait for Penny to wake up and let her know that the baby is still alive. I debated for a while about this one. But yes, Penny's baby will live. I figured she'd had enough bad things happen she didn't need to deal with that too. As to Francine…well, I can't give away all my secrets, now can I?**

**Apprehension**

"Detective Inspector?" Francine queried when she opened the door. "I'm so sorry. I know Humphrey didn't answer his phone earlier. I should have forced him to at least see who it was. I'll just get him for you, shall I?"

"Mrs. Anderson," Greg started, stopped and swallowed. "Francine." He rubbed a hand over his face. "Can we come in?"

"How silly of me," she exclaimed. "Of course," she stepped back and opened the door wider for the three of them to enter. "I swear I don't know where my head is these days. I've become so forgetful."

Greg smiled a bit. "I understand," he commented and followed her to the parlour with the constables following him. "You should have seen Jo when she was pregnant with Ben. She'd forget to put clothes on before leaving the house if Colleen and I didn't catch her."

Francine let out a light laugh. "I just can't imagine that. Joanne has always seemed so put together and level headed." She sat tiredly in one of the chairs and motioned for them to join her. "Now how can I help you, Detective Inspector? Is Humphrey in trouble for not answering?"

Greg shifted uncomfortably. "Mrs. Anderson," he began again. "Can you tell me exactly where your husband is right now?"

Francine frowned. "He's in his room, asleep," she answered. "Really, Detective Inspector what is this about?"

"Just bear with me for a few more minutes, Mrs. Anderson." Greg leaned forward and his brown eyes stared into hers. "Do you know where he was at between nine and ten o'clock last night?"

Francine brought one hand up to her throat again and her watery blue eyes filled with tears. "No," she shook her head. "I thought…I thought he was at work. What did…what did he do, Greg? Please. There…there was something…off…wrong about him tonight…" She cradled her head in her hands. "Tell me what he did?" Her voice was muffled but strong and unwavering all the same. "I need to know."

Greg used the cover to motion the two constables to go find Anderson and bring him down. They left the room, casting last regretful looks at the huddled form of Anderson's wife. "I don't have proof that he did anything, Francine," he told her in a gentle tone.

Francine lifted her head and fixed him with her angry blue eyes. "Joanne wouldn't buy that prevarication any more than I will, Greg. Now, tell me what my husband did that has brought you to my door at two thirty in the morning."

"I can't give you any detail, Franny," Greg warned her and took one of her hands between his. "And truthfully even if I could I wouldn't."

She merely stared at him for a moment. "It's something very bad, isn't it? Something that he'll go to jail for. Something I will never be able to forgive him of. Something worse than the cheating."

Greg nodded slowly. "Much worse. You knew? About the other women then?"

Francine nodded jerkily. "Yes. I even know he got one of them pregnant about the same time I did. I also know that she'd broken it off with him a bit before she found out. I have my spies, Greg," she smirked at him. "I have a high-powered career and it pays to be vigilant. I let him have his little flings. They didn't matter. It was me he came home to."

"Oh," Greg said a little inanely. Like it wasn't bad enough he had Mycroft Holmes spying on the Yard now he found out he had Francine Anderson as well. Nothing at the Yard would ever be kept secret. At least the press wasn't involved in the spying though he had a few suspicions about that.

"I was planning on contacting the poor girl and offering her some assistance in whatever way she wanted it but like I said I've been rather forgetful of late and my sources said that she was doing well. She's only what, twenty one?" Greg nodded dazedly. "Now tell me what he's done."

"Lestrade," Anderson's voice interrupted him as he opened his mouth to tell Francine what they all believed her husband had done to that poor girl that he'd knocked up. "What are you doing here? Look I'm sorry I missed the call but that's no reason to come barging into my home, pulling me from my well-earned rest and frightening my wife."

Greg and Francine both rose to their feet. Francine unconsciously placed Greg between her husband and herself. That small move told Greg quite a bit and he had to tamp down a shudder of renewed revulsion. He placed a hand on her arm in comfort and moved her farther behind him. "Anderson," he croaked out and then cleared his throat. "Humphrey Anderson you are wanted for questioning in the assault, rape and attempted murder of New Scotland Yard Police Constable Penelope Chelton." He heard Francine gasp behind him and felt her arm tremble in his hold. "Also in the possible murder of her unborn child. Please go quietly with the constables."

Anderson immediately started spluttering denials but Greg left him to the constables for the moment and turned back to the now gray Francine. "He what?" She whispered faintly.

"Here, Francine, sit down," he helped her back into the chair she'd so recently risen from. "I'm not saying it again, Franny. I can't…she's one of us."

"I'd rather you didn't anyway," she admitted after a shaky breath. "Are you sure?"

"No," he said. "We have to wait for the tests to come back but our suspicions were raised by a few different sources."

"You can't believe anything that Psychopath says!" Anderson yelled as one of the constables wrestled his arms behind his back to cuff him. "He's been out to get me for years."

Greg looked over his shoulder and smirked. "Yes, he has but it wasn't him this time. He never said anything about you. It was someone else…a few other someones actually. A couple neighbours that saw a man fitting your description entering her flat a little after eight thirty and leaving a bit above an hour later. Some other people too. And we have evidence."

Anderson stared at him startled and the PCs tugged him out the door. "Did…did she identify him?" Francine asked quietly.

Greg turned back to her. "I don't know," he admitted. "She was unconscious when we got there but she'd called Dr. Watson before she passed out. She may have told him but he wouldn't say anything thinking it would ruin our impartiality. Now I need to ask you a question if I may?" She nodded. "Has he ever…I mean, he scared you just now. Has he hurt you before?"

"No, no Greg, he hasn't," she licked dry lips. "You said possible murder of her unborn child? She hasn't lost it then?"

"Good, that's good. And no, the last time Avery sent me a status report the baby was still hanging in."

Francine smiled brilliantly. "Good. Tell me what hospital she's at and then go do your job and put the criminal behind bars."

Greg shook his head at the resiliency of woman and gave her the information she wanted. Then he went to work knowing that it wouldn't be as easy as she made it sound but that he would in the end put the criminal behind bars.


	10. Interrogation

**Disclaimer: Got a possible lead on the original scripts for the BBC Sherlock. Hoping that this isn't a hoax. Secret plan? What secret plan? Do you really think I'm the kind of person that would have a secret plan to kidnap Lestrade and make him my sex slave? I think I'm insulted. Please. Even if I was that kind of person and I did have a plan do you really believe I'd tell anyone about it?**

**A/N: Right so I know that the last few chapters have been really dark. Much darker than my normal stuff. I don't know what possessed me to write this except that I don't like Anderson and wanted to get rid of him in a plausible way. Anyway, the rest of the story should be lighter. Let me know what you think.**

**Interrogation**

Anderson glared at the small interrogation room and rubbed at his wrists. He'd never actually been in this room. He'd been in other interrogation rooms but this one he'd given a pass too because of its smallness. There wasn't nearly enough room for his normal activities in abandoned rooms at the Yard.

It galled him that he was in this position. He should never have been brought in for questioning. He should have gotten away clean. But no, they had to bring the Psychopath in for a simply rape case. The Psychopath whinged on and on about rape cases. He didn't like working them. He never said why and Anderson had never wanted to delve any deeper into his motivations. He was sure that it would only drive him mad.

He glared sullenly at the one-way glass now. He knew the Psychopath was back there, gloating. He was probably laughing at him. But Anderson knew he'd have the last laugh. Oh, yes, yes he would. Even if they convicted him of this, it wouldn't matter because the Psychopath wouldn't enjoy his triumph for long. There was someone out there who would make sure of that. And Anderson had helped him. Anderson would be able to finally beat the Psychopath and he didn't even need to be there for it to happen.

The door opened and Lestrade finally made an appearance. Anderson gave the man and the PC who followed him in a fierce scowl. "Why am I here?" He growled.

Lestrade frowned at him and took a seat across the table while the PC moved to stand behind him. "You know how this works, Anderson," Lestrade told him.

Anderson sneered. "So that's it then, is it? All those years working together and I'm just some common suspect? I had thought that I had more of your respect than that."

Lestrade refused to allow himself to be baited. He gave a small shrug and looked at the forensic's tech steadily. "Why don't you tell me where you've been this evening, Dr. Anderson?"

"Why should I? I'm not under arrest am I? Why are my movements so important to you, Lestrade? Are you trying to stalk me or something? I don't swing that way." Anderson kept his hands clasped in front of him to hide their trembling. He wasn't going to make a conviction easy for them.

Lestrade sighed and shook his head. "No, not yet anyway. Though you're the main suspect. But you knew that."

Anderson let out a harsh snort of laughter. "Bet the Psychopath is back there crowing about me being the only suspect, isn't he? He's just so smug cuz he thinks he's got me dead to rights."

Lestrade sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "You really think he's that interested in you?" He sneered. "Sherlock's got more important things to do than to watch me question you about the brutal rape of one of my PCs."

Anderson let out another harsh laugh. "Sure, I believe that." He gave a light wave to the glass. "You're enjoying this aren't you?"

"No, I'm not actually," Lestrade countered. "I really wasn't expecting to be called to the scene of a brutal rape of one of my PCs tonight or to have to bring in one of my own officers for questioning in the case."

"I wasn't talking to you, Lestrade," Anderson snapped. "I was talking to your pet Psychopath!"

Lestrade heaved a heavy sigh and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "Sherlock's not there. He's at the hospital with PC Chelton. Now where were you between nine and ten last night?"

"Fuck you, Lestrade. You don't have a thing you can pin on me. I don't have to tell you anything." Anderson sat back against the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. He thrust his chin out belligerently. He knew they had no evidence. He'd cleaned it all up. "Now either charge me with something or let me go."

Lestrade held his gaze for a moment longer and then the door opened again. Lestrade stood immediately. "Sir?" He asked the rather rotund man that came through the door. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Chief Superintendent Gavin Carter waved him off and took an unoccupied seat next to Lestrade's. "One of your people bumped into me as I was making my way to my office a few minutes ago. She apprised me of the situation when I asked and then handed me this file for you." He handed the file to Lestrade. "I do believe that is the DNA test results you were waiting for, Lestrade. And I do believe that it is time to book Dr. Anderson for rape, assault and attempted murder."

"Why would the Chief Superintendent involve himself in a case about an insignificant bitch of a PC?" Anderson blurted out without thinking.

Steel hard pale blue eyes pinned Anderson. They were filled with a look of revulsion and hate that nearly left Anderson gasping for breath. "You made a very big mistake last night, Dr. Anderson," the Chief hissed at him. He took a visibly calming breath. "Do not tell us again that we have nothing on you. Your hair was found at the scene. There were traces of the cologne you use also found at the scene. We have all the evidence we need to try you, to convict you and to sentence you for a very long time. You are a police officer, if an ineffectual one. You aren't going to last long in prison, Dr. Anderson."

Anderson stared at the file in Lestrade's hands in horror. "Why the Hell do you care?" Anderson spluttered.

Chief Superintendent Gavin Carter levered himself to his feet and leaned over the table until he was nearly nose to nose with Dr. Humphrey Anderson. "Police Constable Penelope Chelton of New Scotland Yard is my niece," he said quietly. "You lied to her, you tricked her, you made her pregnant, you made her life Hell at work and then you raped her, brutalized her and tried to kill her and her child. There is nowhere on this Earth that you can hide from me, Anderson. There is nowhere that you will ever be safe again. You tried to kill my dead sister's only surviving child. You hurt the one reminder I have of my twin sister. You are very lucky that I am a civilized man, Dr. Anderson or I would rip your throat out right here and damn the consequences." He stood up straight. "Arrest him, constable."

The constable gave him a tight nod and hauled Anderson from his chair and out of the room.

"Niece, hunh?" Lestrade asked after a few moments of silence in the room.

Carter turned to him. "She wanted it kept quiet. She didn't want any special treatment, either good or bad and God forgive me I allowed it. She'd wanted to be a copper since she was old enough to talk. I wanted her to be happy after her family's death. I should have protected her better."

Lestrade patted his shoulder. "We do what we can for our kids sir. But in the end they have to make their own way. I won't tell anyone when she comes back. She will come back, she's far too tough to let this stop her following her dream."

"She is that, yes," Carter discretely wiped his eyes and took a trembling breath. "Do you know how she is?"

Lestrade nodded. "Last report from John, er…Dr. Watson was that Penny's doing better and the baby is still hanging in there. I…um, I was going to head over there now. Would you like to ride over with me?"

Carter stood up. "I'd like that, Lestrade. Thank you."


	11. Waking Up

**Disclaimer: So the lead? Yeah it was a red herring. Really. I had been told that the scripts were being kept in a waterproof baggie inside a red herring at the London Aquarium. I had one of my nonexistent contacts in London go to retrieve it but it was all a lie. My contact won't talk to me now. She was kicked out of the aquarium and asked to never return. So I can't use the stupid spell and the characters are still not mine.**

**A/N: I know I wasn't expecting that little twist until the chief had already opened the door to the interrogation room. Kinda freaky wasn't it? **

**So…this is the last chapter of this story. I had vague thoughts of making it longer but realized that there isn't anything more to tell. I'm sure Penny will pop up again in later stories as will Francine and they'll talk about Anderson's fate at some point. At the moment I'm going with a tattooed cellmate name Bubba with a taste for unwilling male flesh but I haven't decided if that's just my vindictive side making its presence known yet. You can make up your own fate for him if you wish. Him getting shanked plays highly in my imagination as well. Thanks for sticking with me through this and I'm rather glad it's over for once. Usually I hate to see one of my stories end but this one was a bit darker than my usual fare and I don't altogether like it. Let me know what you think. **

**Waking Up**

The first thing she became aware of was the pain. It was all consuming and yet she was strangely glad for it. Pain meant that she was still alive. The fact that she could make that connection also told her that she was relatively sane still. Though the pain might in fact drive her mad.

She couldn't stop the small sound of distress that did nothing to relieve the pain. It actually brought the fire in her throat to light. Forcing her throat to make that sound had added fuel to the fire and she knew there would soon be tears leaking from her eyes. It was unfair. She hadn't crying and she knew it would only make her hurt more.

Suddenly there was a soothing hand on her brow and the sound of beeping and talking. She whimpered again.

"Avery," a familiar voice barked out. "Go get Dr. John. Tell him she's coming around and that she seems to be crying."

"Yes, Sgt.," another familiar voice answered.

"Shh, Penny," someone soothed her. She didn't recognize this voice but she liked the way it sounded. "Everything will be all right. Stay calm. Shh."

Penny wanted to open her eyes. She wanted to thank the quiet voice and the gentle hand. Even through the pain they were making her feel better. She had so many questions and she couldn't ask them through the fire in her throat. She let herself drift with the voice and the hand for a while. It was nice that someone cared.

"Penny," there was another voice. A male voice and Penny instinctively wanted to hide from it. "Shh," the male voice soothed. "It's only me, Dr. John. Do you remember me, Penny?"

She relaxed. She did remember Dr. John. He was nice. He made her laugh. He wouldn't hurt her. She wanted to tell him but the fire in her throat wouldn't let her. She licked at her lips giving an involuntary wince at the flare of pain and then the tears leaked out again at that pain.

"Ah," he made a sound of discovery. "Hurts? I suspect it does. Hang in there just a moment, Penny. I'll put something in your IV for the pain."

Penny wanted to hug him she was so grateful. Within moments the pain dulled and she blinked her eyes open a bit. She licked at her lips again. "Water?" She croaked out.

Dr. John's kind face and warm hazel eyes smiled at her. "Of course," he looked over to her other side. "Francine?"

"Oh, yes, of course," the unfamiliar voice said. Penny flicked her eyes towards that voice and saw a rather pretty woman older than her by about ten years pouting some water into a cup from a jug by the bed she was lying in. "Here you are dear," the woman held the straw to her lips.

"What-?" Penny stopped her question abruptly as she remembered what had happened. Tears fell down her cheeks again. "She's…gone. He killed h-her."

That comforting hand was back and Dr. John took her hand in his own. "No, no Penny," he said quickly. "She's still with you. He didn't kill her. I promise. Your little girl is quite the fighter. Sh, she's fine. See?" He used one hand to point to a screen beside her. Penny stared at it through her tears until she could make out the tiny form. "You need to calm down, Penny. She's okay but she's been through quite the fight and she needs you to be calm."

Penny nodded and tried to calm her breathing without taking her eyes from the screen. "She's really okay?"

"Yes," Dr. John squeezed her hand.

Penny's eyes focused back on him. "Did they catch him?" She asked timidly. "Did you tell them who it was?"

"I didn't need to," Dr. John smiled at her. "Avery figured it out after about fifteen minutes in your flat."

"How…" she paused for another sip of the water. "How long have I been here, Dr. John?"

"Just over a week," John said quietly. "We kept you sedated until last night to give the baby a bit of time to settle. She was hanging on by a thread for the first few days. But she pulled through."

"Good," Penny breathed blinking slowly and realizing that she was really tired. "I'm gonna sleep. Thank you, Dr. John."

"You're welcome, Penny," John said. "Sleep now."

Penny closed her eyes fully and leaned into the hand soothing her hair back from her face. It really was very nice.

SH/JW SH/JW SH/JW

Every time Penny woke there was someone with her. Avery, Donovan, the DI's wife Joanne, Dr. John's sister-in-law Molly and Francine. Francine seemed to be there more than any of the others and she cared for Penny like a mother would. Penny liked her even if she wasn't quite sure who she was.

The following two weeks seemed to fly by when she was awake. All of the people she worked with had come to visit at least once. Her uncle came every day and she didn't mind that he'd let out their secret. In light of the events of that night she didn't care anymore about special treatment. He offered her a home with him again but she had only just moved out of his house. She didn't want to quit her job and move home. He told her she could go back to work but she didn't want to put him in that position. She agreed that if it was too difficult for her that she would think about it though.

"Francine," Penny finally screwed up her courage two and a half weeks after she'd woken. "How do…forgive me if this seems an impolite question but why are you here? Who are you?"

To Penny's utter shock Francine closed her eyes, sank onto the side of her bed and tears leaked from her closed lids. "Oh, dear child," Francine whispered. "I had so hoped to have longer before you asked me that."

Penny put a hand on her arm. "Franny? What is it? What's wrong? You don't have to answer if you don't want too."

Francine patted her hand and gave her a watery smile. "Yes, Penny, I do. I just hope you can forgive me." Penny gave her a confused look. "My name is Francine Anderson, you see? My husband put you here." Penny gasped and her hand tightened on Francine's arm unconsciously. "I…" Francine sobbed and brought her fingers to her lips. "I cannot forgive myself for not seeing what he was. I am so very sorry. I had…I had wanted to talk to you before but…well, I'm pregnant as well and the hormones have played havoc with my memory so I would make a mental note to find you and talk to you and let you know that you had my support and then I'd forget to do it. My contacts would tell me that you were fine when I did remember to ask. I just…" Francine shrugged helplessly. "I came because I wanted to do what I could to help. I didn't expect to find you so charming and cheery. You are a very special person, Penelope Chelton and I am so very glad to have met you even under these circumstances."

Penny swallowed heavily. She didn't quite know what to say but the sorrow filled look on Francine's face was just so wrong. Francine had a core of steel and she'd put up with Penny's bad moods and fear and bouts of crying with grace. "Franny…Franny you're my friend. I'm sorry for what he did to us both but I'm not sorry that you're here. I hope we can remain friends even now."

Francine drew in a shaky breath and gave a half laugh. "I would like that…I would also like to ask you to do something for me." Penny gave her an inquiring frown. "I…I have never lived alone. I don't know if I can handle rattling around in that house by myself until the baby comes. And apparently my forgetfulness may become an issue as the pregnancy progresses. I want you to come live with me…please? You may pay rent if you insist but I could really use a friend and I think you could too."

Penny stared at her in astonishment and then a smile crept across her lips. "I'd really like that, Franny."


End file.
